“Two weeks from now,” Nez said. “Same time, same place. You’re a smart woman, Ms. Harper. Make the right choice for your people.”
The undead leapt away and took off into the night. She walked back to Oscar. The mechanic looked at her.
“Have you ever noticed, Oscar, that when people say, ‘You’re a smart woman,’ what they really mean to say is ‘But I am smarter?’”
Oscar smiled at her.
“Weren’t there some Iron Dogs guarding the station?”
“There were. Two of them fellahs. They’re sleeping under that oak over there.”
Elara sighed. “Oscar…”
“You know how I like the quiet. Evening, that’s me time.”
“They were supposed to be here for your protection.”
“I know, I know. They looked tired anyway.”
“You better wake them up. And don’t magic them back to sleep either.”
Oscar sighed. “What do I do if that undead shitweasel comes back?”
“Shoot him and let the ‘fellahs’ do the rest. These pumps must keep working, do you understand me, Oscar? Keep the water flowing.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Elara thought of fussing at him about the “my lady” bit, but she had bigger fish to fry. It was only her imagination, but the envelope in her hands was too heavy and she couldn’t wait to put it down.